tied up in pretty young things || tysh

3

"oh, of course you have lube in your car," josh deadpans as tyler reaches into the middle console, retracting two small square packets and a condom.

"come on, get in the back," tyler urges.

"i hate you so much." nonetheless, josh unbuckles his seatbelt and crawls in the back to the best of his ability, nearly kicking tyler in the face.

"it would've been easier to just get out and back in," tyler points out as he follows along, landing ungracefully on top of josh.

"fuck you."

"that's the point," tyler giggles, smoothing his hands over josh's neck slowly, dipping his fingers underneath his shirt and against his collarbone. josh sighs, a bit impatient, but he relaxes into the uncomfortable seat and the presence of the seatbelt buckle digging into his side painful, allowing tyler to move his hands wherever he pleases.

tyler's eyes train on josh's face, and he looks up to meet his gaze, albeit shyly. "you're so beautiful," he whispers, voice nearly broken in all of its glory, and josh smiles tiredly, cheeks slowly turning red.

gently, he raises a hand to josh's cheek, splaying his thumb across the skin, and josh turns his face against his palm, eyes fluttering shut. it's a little too intimate for something said in the back of a car thirty minutes before an interview, and he's going to look like utter hell in front of those cameras when they're done, but he loses himself to the sensation of tyler above him, thumb pressing into his skin adoringly.

tyler moves both of his hands, tugging josh's shirt up to expose his hips; softly, he touches along the expanse of josh's lower stomach, sighing almost gratefully before undoing the button of his jeans.

josh wriggles his hips a little, lifting them into the air as tyler tugs them down his thighs. he does his own in half the time, hands moving to hook his fingers under the waistband of josh's boxers, exposing the rest of him completely.

moving quicker, tyler rips open a packet of lube with his teeth and josh settles his legs around his hips to bracket his waist. he coats his fingers with lube, resting his free hand on josh's hip, pressing against his entrance once he feels they're sufficiently covered.

"ready?" tyler asks, waiting for josh to nod before pressing in, listening carefully to josh's intake of breath until he's buried up to the knuckle.

"alright," josh sighs, eyes slipping closed, breath hitching as tyler begins to move, slowly, a bit faster once he can feel josh pressing down to meet him, whining low, deep in his throat.

he rocks him there for a quick second before he adds a second finger, josh meeting him with every thrust until he's begging for more, more, harder, ty, please. in goes a third and josh cries out, head falling against the seat, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut.

"tyler, please, oh my god," josh croons, grinding down against tyler's fingers.

carefully, he slips out, biting his lip at josh's indignant, disappointed whine, hips chasing after him. he rolls a condom on with practiced ease and rips open the other packet of lube, bucking his hips up into his hand as he covers himself in the cold liquid.

he lines himself up, grasping at josh's hips; his legs are cramping from where he's been kneeling on the seat, and he knows that both josh and him are going to be limping once they show up for their interview. "you good?" he whispers, breathless, and josh groans, nodding frenetically.

tyler pushes in fluidly, bottoming out in less than two seconds, and josh's hands fly up as he cries out, scrabbling for purchase at his shoulders. he's thankful that he's wearing a shirt, or there would be scratches on his skin – his thoughts disappear as he thrusts once, twice, head falling backwards, eyes sliding close as he moans into the too hot air. josh slides against the seat below him, groaning in a way that almost sounds like he's crying, pushing his hips down to meet tyler with every thrust, fingers digging into his shirt.

josh whines as tyler slides his hands underneath his back, pushing him up so that his hips are up in the air. he begins to thrust into him frantically, slamming into him with ease, hitting his prostate with nearly every movement; josh cries, throat already hoarse, too worn out to scream even though he desperately wants to scream tyler's name into the air so everyone can hear him – he yelps as tyler wraps a hand around his cock, sloppily pumping him as he thrusts into him harshly, quicker and messier as he nears his edge; he cums first with a shout that dissolves into a quiet, high-pitched whine. with two more thrusts, josh follows, choking out sobbed moans as he cums all over his stomach and tyler's hand, panting as he's dropped back into the seat.

tyler takes a minute to stop his quaking limbs, sliding out of josh. josh lets out a pained hiss from overstimulation, lazily running his hands through his hair, looking up at tyler through half-lidded eyes as he searches the back of the car for anything to clean them both up with.

there's an old shirt on the ground, luckily. he grabs it and wipes away the stickiness covering both his hand and josh's stomach, and then pulls off his condom and ties it, throwing it haphazardly on the ground along with the now-messy shirt stained with white.

"jesus," josh moans as he slides his jeans back up on his hips, redoing the button. "i forget how nice that is."

tyler laughs as he wrestles his own pants back up his legs. "yeah? we'll have to do it more often."

they enter the building holding hands, casting shy looks over at each other like tyler hadn't just had his dick up josh's ass two minutes ago. they both look positively, downright sinful; mark takes one look at them as they enter the green room and shakes his head, sighing.

"why do you two do this to me?" he whines, and tyler laughs.